


Elegy

by inkpenny



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkpenny/pseuds/inkpenny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami remembers her mother in many ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elegy

Contrary to what she would like others to believe, Asami remembers watching her mother die.

 

She remembers standing beside the staircase, her small hand wrapped tightly around a wooden banister as the flames seared through her mother’s pretty face (so much like Asami’s own now). The act itself was almost beautiful: orange and yellow licking fair flesh away into bright red before the stark white bone of a smooth skull. And then, afterwards, pure black: cinders from a china doll after a fire.

 

He smiled at Asami as he did it. Dark eyes like coals in the light of the flame.

 

.

 

_“You are so strong,” her mother says. Her long, pale fingers graze the tender skin of Asami’s scalp as she combs through waves and waves of black._

_Asami disagrees, but she chooses not to respond; only smiles. She is a quiet child, meek._

_Her mother’s teeth flash white against her painted lips._

_“You don’t believe me now, but you will. Soon.”_

_Years from now, Asami wonders if she knew what would happen._

 

.

 

Three years after her mother’s death, Asami cuts her hair. It is clumsy-looking and ugly—so short that the scissors have sliced little pockets along the nape of her neck—but she regrets very little. The shorn locks lie at her feet, snakelike and prehensile as they slither between her ankles, pulling her down. They are a reminder of things she would like to forget.

 

When her father finds her, he cries. Asami cannot imagine why.

 

.

 

_“We can’t have everything, my love,” her mother soothes, cradling Asami gently in her lap. The day has been long and tiresome, and Asami is heartbroken. She cannot stop thinking about her useless body: arms and legs and hands and feet that will never compel a single element. She sags against her mother’s steadier form, her ankle swollen and bound after a feeble attempt at earthbending._

_“I hate them,” Asami whispers, her little voice trembling with envy. Long fingers curl around her tiny arms and squeeze them almost painfully._

_“How can you?” Her mother presses a bright red kiss against her temple and sighs, her voice miles away. “You hardly know them.”_

.

 

The first time Asami drives a car, it is an accident. She is fourteen and reckless and can’t even remember what made her jump into the driver’s seat, but she has learned enough from watching her father to have the vaguest idea of what to do.

 

It is after midnight and the streets are bare when she goes tearing down them at full speed. The air outside is cold and bites at the corners of her eyes, drying her lips so badly that they crack when her face breaks into a frantic grin. Her heart thrums wildly inside of her chest and she looks down to see that the skin of her hands looks nearly translucent as they grip the hot leather steering wheel.

 

She feels the whole world surround her—every bit of it sending surges of energy through her that she’s never felt before. Her foot presses so hard against the gas that the buildings beside her become an indecipherable blur and the wind starts to burn her skin. She is powerful. She is _strong_. Asami briefly thinks that she might die from such a feeling before it all ends in a thunderous crash and everything goes black.

 

(When she finally comes to, she is flanked on each side by healers dressed in soft blue robes. She tries to smile through a mouth full of blood until she feels the ghost of slim fingers against her brow and cries for the first time in six years.)

 

.

 

_The first service of her mother’s funeral ceremony is held on a cloudy evening at the end of summer. Asami is hot and sluggish and knows very few of the attendees. She stands beside her father as they pass by in a sea of black, and watches impassively as they cry enough for the two of them combined._

_The coffin is swathed in white cloth weighed down only by the full chrysanthemum lilies gathered along the base. There is a slight breeze, but it does very little to temper the humidity, and Asami squirms at the feeling of her burdensome clothing sticking against her skin. She doesn’t want to be here._

_When they finally lower her mother into the ground, Asami thinks briefly of the cinders left behind, and of the dark, gritty dirt that now swallows her mother whole. They are so similar, she realizes, so stunningly connected that it almost makes sense that the earth would be the one to take her mother away for good. Perhaps Asami can forgive it for doing so. Perhaps she can understand the immortality of it all, even if it means she never sees her mother again._

_Just as Asami feels that she may very well collapse, a robinjay flies overhead, startlingly blue against the dismal sky._

 

.

 

Asami is twenty, and she has lost both of her parents.

 

She will not cry anymore, for it is more an act of triumph than denial. (The trauma of trying to outrun sorrow still festers hideously in her memory, and she knows better than to ignore things that are already there.)

 

As much as she wants to give everyone the satisfaction of a breakdown after feeling their anticipation weigh heavily upon her for so long, she cannot bring herself to fall where she was before. Her father’s betrayal has hurt her, but her grief has always been unorthodox. This time, she mourns openly with the acknowledgment of pain; she embraces it completely and without fear, lets it fuel every part of her in turn. Her strength is their legacy.

 

Because death, Asami has realized, is rarely the end.

 

.

 

_“You deserve joy, Asami. Nothing less.”_

 

.

 

The rain falls in torrents, soaking through Asami’s clothes in seconds. She supposes she should be more frustrated, but Korra makes it exceedingly difficult as she frolics around in the downpour, shrieking gleefully all the while.

 

Asami cannot recall having seen Korra waterbend very often, but witnessing it now is mesmerizing. Her movements become so easy and elegant as she grasps the raindrops around her and transforms them into slick ribbons of water that flow behind her as she runs. Asami understands Korra’s preference for earth and fire, but waterbending is like an extension of her soul. Even with her enthusiasm, there is an expression of absolute serenity on her face as her arms dip and undulate with the progression of the streams.

 

“You gonna stand there all day, or what?” Korra hollers over the rain, a wide smile on her face.

 

Asami is running forward before she’s even aware of it, and Korra takes off in the opposite direction, initiating a chase. Asami feels herself flush with the acceptance of the challenge and darts across the grassy plain in pursuit of the Avatar, mud sloshing frantically under her boots.

 

The game is long and exhausting, and Asami doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time she runs out of breath and collapses in a heap on the wet ground. In the distance, she hears Korra howl victoriously, chanting her win to the skies above.

 

Asami only lies still and closes her eyes for a while, a smile on her face as the rain falls. She doesn’t hear Korra step up beside her.

 

“You’re so strong, you know that?” The rain nearly drowns out the words, but Asami can make them out well enough.

 

And when she looks up and sees Korra still smiling with her blue, blue eyes, Asami feels something in her come to life so violently that it almost consumes her. She can hardly stop herself when her chest swells up with emotion and she begins to cry.

 

They are happy tears.


End file.
